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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23220421">The Last Morgenstern</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnikaandAj/pseuds/AnikaandAj'>AnikaandAj</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Jealousy, M/M, Mystery, Post-Book 6: City of Heavenly Fire, Post-Canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:08:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,612</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23220421</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnikaandAj/pseuds/AnikaandAj</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jace wakes up to a world where his loved ones have thought he's been dead for three years, his friends all hate each other, and his girlfriend is hiding dangerous secrets. Now he's on a quest to find out what happened to him, get the girl, and take back his life. Though, he might have to add stopping the apocalypse to the list if a familiar enemy gets their way.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Simon Lewis/Isabelle Lightwood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Honestly I'm still not sure how I feel about AO3. From my experience people don't actually comment so there isn't much motivation, but people are disappearing from fanfiction.net so I'm curious if this is where they're going. Honestly, I should not be back here, writing these stories, posting on this site. So here we go, trying things out, with this story that couldn't get out of my head and provided a relief from my writer's block.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He remembered a coil of red hair twisting between his fingers, freckles and dimples and pale skin that smelt of strawberries and sunscreen, a giggle, and then darkness.</p>
<p>Darkness everywhere.</p>
<p>It was like the sunshine from that summer day was stuffed in a box and hidden away.</p>
<p>Darkness everywhere.</p>
<p>He was wet and cold and he longed for sunshine and her.</p>
<p>A cold laughter rang through the air, curling between his toes and clawing at his ears, icier than the liquid pool engulfing him. Then, there was light.</p>
<p>Jace opened his eyes. The sunlight was warm against his skin and a gentle breeze tickled the grass he lied upon. Why was he lying in grass? He was supposed to be…he couldn’t finish the sentence.</p>
<p>“What the hell?” Jace shot up from the ground, instinctively reaching for his seraph blade. His hand clutched empty air in the place where he always kept his blade. With one look down, he saw his weapons belt was missing entirely.</p>
<p>He cursed. Jace couldn’t remember how he got to what looked like a grassy field in the middle of nowhere, let alone how the weapons belt he kept on him at all times ended up missing. Alec was never going to let this go. He could already picture the cheeky comments his parabatai would make at his expense, no doubt with Isabelle joining in. It would be bad enough having to call them to pick him up from wherever the hell he was, but…he paused again, double checking his pockets and even the ground around him for his cellphone that was also nowhere to be found.</p>
<p>It was a good thing that no one was around because a new string of curses spewed from his lips. Mundane technology was for the most part ridiculous and a waste of time in his opinion, but Clary gave him that phone for Christmas and he had to admit it came in handy when she went home after training for late night conversations without facing Jocelyn's wrath.</p>
<p>
  <em>Clary.</em>
</p>
<p>The reminder of his girlfriend made his blood run cold.</p>
<p>“Dammit,” he cursed once, twice, thrice in a rapid string, followed by a sea of more creative terminology. She must’ve been going out of her mind trying to figure out where the hell he was. And if she was going out of her mind, he knew for a fact she would make sure he knew exactly how it felt. He shuddered, remembering how she ignored him for two weeks straight the last time he was late coming back from a demon hunt. Sure, maybe he should have told someone where he was going or brought backup. Fine, maybe he shouldn’t have made a joke when he got back about Clary not being able to get enough of him. Admittedly, it probably didn’t help that he then compared her <em>to</em> the demon, but in his defense, it was definitely one of the hottest demons he’d come across. Not that that defense had calmed her down in any way, but he still thought it counted for something. </p>
<p>Thinking of her was enough to convince him to search his surroundings for the phone with renewed vigor. He dug through the grass, looked between branches that poked out at him, and wandered away from the meadow he awoke in to try his luck in the woods. It took what must have been twenty minutes or so before he spotted the phone's screen glinting in the bright sunlight from between two rocks. </p>
<p>How the phone was so far away from where he woke up, he had no clue. Maybe it had fallen out while he was chasing a demon and the battle had carried him far away before he could realize, but then how was the screen remarkably uncracked…</p>
<p>Jace shook his head, figuring he was stalling the inevitable blow up. It was better to just rip off the band-aid and—</p>
<p>“We’re sorry. The number you are using has been disconnected. If you believe this is an error, please contact your wireless service provider at…”</p>
<p>Well, that was just perfect. Jace stuffed the phone back in his pocket. Visions of inescapable darkness filled his eyes once more and a renewed sense of unease settled down upon his shoulders. There was something strange happening, but he didn’t have time to dwell. First he would deal with a no doubt furious girlfriend. Then, after he had a decent amount of time to earn her forgiveness (preferably in a bedroom) he could get her to explain just how phone plans worked. Later he could try and work out the details of why he woke up in what he could only assume was an isolated stretch of Central Park.</p>
<p>He sighed, chose a random direction, and began to walk. Luckily in New York, there was never a cab too far away.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Jace pushed open the doors of the Institute as if he were ripping off a band-aid—quick and to the point. There was no use in delaying the inevitable yelling, which he may or may not deserve. On his way home, he’d prepared for yelling, screaming, an insult or two as he entered the Institute. He just hadn’t imagined it to be so quiet. Where Maryse would normally be hovering about with orders and papers in hand, there was nothing. He shoved his hands in his pockets and slipped through hallways newly stacked with boxes. A few were opened, but the rest were stacked on top of each other. Jace raised an eyebrow. Even if new people had moved into the Institute, he would expect his siblings wouldn’t be too busy helping the new occupants that they wouldn’t notice he was gone.</p>
<p>Maybe he was being selfish, but he had hoped someone would at least notice his mysterious disappearance. But the further he walked through the halls, the more disappointed he felt. Where were they?</p>
<p>“C’mon, don’t all crowd around me at once,” he called out to the empty halls. “You’ll just embarrass both of us.”</p>
<p>Jace paused, waiting, and just when he was about to give up and walk up to Clary’s room with his tail between his legs, the back of his neck prickled. He smirked. <em>It’s about time. I was getting bored. </em>He spun, his smirk growing at the sight of Isabelle behind the kitchen counter. She stood frozen, mouth parted. Though she was as beautiful as ever, her cheeks were thinner—hollower—and her eyes older. A sharp pang of guilt raced through him. Had his absence taken that hard of a toll on her? It wasn’t as if it was his first time coming back late from a night hunting demons and being reckless.</p>
<p>“Isabelle—“</p>
<p>Whatever he expected, it wasn’t her screaming at the sight of him. And it definitely wasn’t her grabbing a knife from the nearby cutting board and lunging at him, out from the kitchen where he could now see a large protruding stomach. Pregnant. She was pregnant.</p>
<p>“How are you <em>pregnant</em>? I was only gone <em>one night!</em>”</p>
<p>“Don’t you dare speak to me!”</p>
<p>Second Trimester or not, Isabelle was a fierce fighter and she easily took advantage of his shock, quickly pinning him to a wall with a seraph blade at his throat. He could feel the blade humming against his skin with a charge nearly as electric as the fury radiating in his sister’s eyes.</p>
<p>“How did you get here?”</p>
<p>Jace steadied his breathing. With the way Isabelle’s nostrils were flaring, it was in his—and his neck’s—best interest to be the calm one. He locked his eyes with hers, never breaking contact.</p>
<p>“I walked a mile through Central Park. Then I got a cab, which took a lot longer than normal.” It took all of his self control to not glance down at the knife or her protruding stomach. “Though, I didn’t think I was gone nearly long enough to come back an Uncle.”</p>
<p><em>God, he was going to be an Uncle</em>. That was, so long as Izzy didn’t kill him first.</p>
<p>“You’ve got a lot of nerve you slimy bastard. How did you get into the Institute?”</p>
<p>“I used the door. Why, how do you get in?”</p>
<p>The blade pressed further into his skin, just enough to draw blood. If Jace hadn’t trained to always be in tune to his surroundings, he would have missed the thumping down the stairs.</p>
<p>“Isabelle, what’s going on? Are you alright?”</p>
<p>Jace sighed, then winced as the blade went further into his skin. Alec approached the two warily, only freezing when he came close enough to see Jace. His hand instinctively rose to touch the parabatai mark which mirrored Jace’s own.</p>
<p>“Alec, please talk some sense into your sister. As far as welcoming committees go, this isn’t what I had in mind.”</p>
<p>Alec showed no sign of moving. His eyes were wide and glassy.</p>
<p>“Who the hell are you?”</p>
<p>Jace’s eyes found Isabelle’s once more. They were growing equally glassy. The time for jokes was over.</p>
<p>“I’m your brother, Jace Herondale, previously Lightwood, briefly Morgenstern, mistakenly Wayland. And I have no idea what is happening or how you’re pregnant when the last thing I remember is dropping Clary off at her mom’s and coming across a demon last night!”</p>
<p>Jace could no longer pretend to be calm. The weight of the past 24 hours pressed down, down, harder until it grew difficult to breathe.</p>
<p>His siblings were quiet. Isabelle’s eyes darted beseechingly to Alec, but he was transfixed on Jace who firmly held his gaze. Alec took a clumsy step forward.</p>
<p>“If he were a demon, he wouldn’t be able to enter the Institute.”</p>
<p>Isabelle seemed to realize this at the same time as she dropped the seraph blade to the side and brought her hands to her gaping mouth. Jace lifted his hand to comfort her before he was knocked backward by Alec gripping at him in a desperate hug. Jace hesitantly returned the hug, backing up just far enough to see the tears in his eyes. A choked sob sounded to his right and then Isabelle was wrapping him in a hug as well. Jace could barely focus on his siblings holding onto him as if afraid he might disappear. His mind was racing. Isabelle’s swollen stomach—her <em>baby gut—</em>pressed into his side and Jace jerked backward, breaking the hug and breathing heavily.</p>
<p>“Will somebody please tell me what is happening?” He ran his hands through his hair, tugging at the roots. <em>This is real</em>, the stinging told him. <em>This isn’t a nightmare.</em> “How…how are you pregnant? When I saw you last night the only fat on you was from pigging out on onion rings!”</p>
<p>“Jace.” Alec’s eyes were were deep and dark blue from crying. “I—“</p>
<p>He faltered, looking to Isabelle. She bit her lip nervously.</p>
<p>“What! Come out with it!” There was a nervous coiling in his stomach. Something inside him knew what was wrong, was teasing him, but he couldn’t decipher it.</p>
<p>Isabelle took a deep breath, looking at him as if she were cutting into him with the seraph blade for real.</p>
<p>“Jace, that night was three years ago. We all…we thought you were <em>dead</em>.”</p>
<p>He stumbled backward, his back hitting the wall. Distantly, he realized his head was shaking back and forth: <em>no</em>.</p>
<p>“No, no, that’s impossible. I would have remembered. After the angel brought me back, I remembered dying. I…you’re wrong.”</p>
<p>His gaze snapped to Alec. His parabatai. Alec’s hand trailed upward once more to the spot on his shoulder where their shared rune was. He slipped the hem of his sweater down, revealing the faded white lines of the rune. The lines which signified the owner’s other half was—</p>
<p>Jace’s knees gave out from underneath him. He sank to the floor and let his head fall.</p>
<p>“I couldn’t feel you, Jace. Whatever happened to you…I felt like you died.”</p>
<p>“Do you have any idea what happened? Like whether someone faked your death or brought you back.”</p>
<p>No sooner had the words tumbled from Isabelle’s lips did Jace snap his head up. He quickly rose to his feet while Isabelle and Alec exchanged a look of alarm. Jace ignored them. He didn’t have time. He was already racing toward the stairwell, where he would leap two stairs at a time and then take a left, then another left, and then six doors to the right where he would find—</p>
<p>“Jace, she isn’t here.”</p>
<p>“I’ll wait.” He moved to sit down before standing right back up again. “No, I can’t. She thinks I’m dead. I—where is she? I have to find her right now.”</p>
<p>He could smell the strawberries and sunscreen of her skin as if she were standing right in front of him. His fingers twitched, feeling the phantom sensation of her romper on his skin as his fingers had once dipped above and below. Red clouded his vision so utterly that he almost missed the whispered argument between his siblings.</p>
<p>“Where is she?” He repeated more forcefully, narrowing his eyes.</p>
<p>The two exchanged one more look. Alec sighed, avoiding Jace’s steely gaze.</p>
<p>“About Clary,” Alec said. “There’s something you should know.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>As his siblings struggle to tell Jace what happened to Clary while he was gone, he sets off on his own to find her. But, he may not like what he finds.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I honestly wasn't expecting you guys to respond so strongly to this story right off the bat, so I want to start by thanking you. I'm still retooling ideas and how I want things to work in the outline, but we're now on this road together. Meaning, if I make you angry and frustrated over the course of this story, I'm only half to blame.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was a demon attack. He wasn’t there to protect her, to save her, and she died. Her mother took away her memories again, knowing that with Jace gone Clary could have a normal mundane life. Simon swooped in and took advantage of Clary in her vulnerable state. Knowing that without Jace, she might as well settle, Clary gave in to his advances and it was now his hands that danced across her skin. The misery and lack of satisfaction caused her to die of a broken heart. She sacrificed herself for ones she loved and had been in a coma ever since.</p><p>With each passing second his siblings didn’t tell him where Clary was, more terrible possibilities would fill his head. The Lightwoods looked nervously between each other, arguing through silent gestures and whispers, as if Jace weren’t standing there going out of his mind. Alec turned to Jace and opened his mouth, clearly about to talk, before a sharp nudge to the ribs by Isabelle brought his attention back to her.</p><p>“<em>Where. Is. Clary</em>.”</p><p>Dead. Hurt. Kidnapped. Missing. Abused. In danger. Crying out for him.</p><p>“She—“</p><p>The door slammed, startling the three. Jace’s heart skipped a hopeful beat, waiting to see windswept red curls whipping through the halls and into his arms.</p><p>“I couldn’t decide whether to get the Death Star crib or the lightsaber mobile so I got both and—<em>holy shit</em>!”</p><p>Simon tumbled to the ground, sending shopping bags flying. Jace groaned. He had gotten his hopes up just for it to be <em>Simon</em>. As if he hadn’t suffered enough. He rolled his eyes at Simon’s mouth flopping up and down and pointing at him like a mentally challenged fish.</p><p>“You’re even worse than Isabelle,” Jace muttered. He turned to his sister. “You mean to tell me that three years have passed and you’re <em>still </em>slumming it with the bloodsucker?”</p><p>Isabelle huffed, crossing her arms so they rested just above her baby bump.</p><p>
  <em>Wait.</em>
</p><p>Jace looked from Isabelle, to Simon (who was still pointing), to Isabelle’s pregnant stomach, and to the baby supplies scattered across the floor. His eyes narrowed.</p><p>“Shit. It’s bad enough that you lowered your standards, but having a kid with <em>him</em>? What has that child done to you to deserve sharing the Bloodsucker’s DNA?”</p><p>“Shut it, Jace,” she growled. “Besides, he hasn’t been a vampire for years.” Jace smirked, causing a sharp intake of breath from Simon.</p><p>“Holy…it’s actually him. He’s alive. He…” Simon shook his head repeatedly, his eyes searching Isabelle’s desperately. Though Simon was no longer a vampire, in that moment his skin was just as pale. It seemed odd that out of everyone, Simon looked the most horrified at his reappearance.</p><p>“Isabelle, you can’t.”</p><p>She shifted, nervously wringing her hands and turned to Alec, dropping her voice to a murmur.</p><p>“Maybe he has a point. I mean—“</p><p>Alec shook his head forcefully.</p><p>“He deserves to know.”</p><p>“Yeah, but what about <em>her</em>,” Simon jumped in harshly.</p><p>So Clary was alive at least. The three continued their arguments, seeming to forget Jace was there. He was tired. Of what exactly it was hard to tell. Listening, waiting, Simon, not being with Clary, not knowing what happened to him. He needed her now. Everything in his life had been flipped upside down and he needed the one person who could ground him. Now.</p><p>
  <em>They were laughing. She held her sketchbook far away from him—a challenge—and he descended like a lion on his prey. He hovered over her, tickling the spots he knew would destroy her resolve, and together they fell. By the end, as he held her in his arms, he removed the pencil that held her hair in a bun, sending her waves cascading around her shoulders. Just as he liked it best. She stuck her tongue out at him and, to add insult to injury, he cheekily pocketed her pencil. It was soon forgotten as they continued to getting lost in one another.</em>
</p><p>His heart ached. How many perfect days like that had been stolen from them? <em>Three years</em>. Longer than they had known each other. His hand snaked into his pocket where Clary’s pencil remained. Too much time had been stolen from them already to wait for his siblings and Simon to finish deciding whether to tell him the truth about his own life. He pulled out his stele and quickly sketched a tracking rune onto his hand, holding the pencil steady. A few moments passed before he felt a pull. A flash of images raced before his vision.</p><p>He could feel her. His fingers gripped the pencil—his lifeline to her—tightly. She was on the Upper West Side. It was a far trip from Brooklyn and definitely not her usual stomping grounds. Were there any museums she was fond of in that area? It didn’t matter. The pencil jerked in his hand and he knew which way he had to go. He couldn’t leave fast enough.</p><p>Sneaking out of the Institute was easy enough with an argument still in deep pursuit. Then it was just a matter of hailing a cab (why were so many called Uber and Lyft?) and he was on his way. He was three years too late, but he was coming.</p><hr/><p>Wealthy-looking socialites in thick wool coats carrying briefcases and dogs in purses went in and out of the modern glass skyscraper towering above Jace. Lush plants lined the entrance, contrasting the gritty New York jungle. From what Jace could tell, the building seemed to be some ultra rich apartment high-rise full of geometrically strange furniture and floor to ceiling windows. What would Clary be doing here?</p><p>He could ask her soon. A thrill ran through him and he smiled, scratching on a glamour. There was no way he could get through security otherwise. Adrenaline pumped through him with each stride of his legs through the lobby and then to the elevator and up, up, closer. With each ding of a new floor, Jace’s heart gave a jolt.</p><p>What do you say to someone who believed you dead? <em>The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated? </em>She’d probably punch him on the spot, but at least she could skip the seraph blade to the throat stage. He could beg for forgiveness, though he knew there weren’t enough words to express how sorry he was. If it had been reversed and he had to go three years thinking Clary was dead…</p><p>He had always known she was the stronger one.</p><p>The elevator doors opened and he burst forward, blindly following the tugging of the pencil. He hoped he wasn’t sweating as much as he felt like he was. Lord knows how long it had been since he had had a shower. Come to think of it, he hadn’t even had time to see his appearance since waking up. What if he had some new grotesque scar that left Clary horrified? Isabelle did try to kill him. Maybe part of that was from some terrible disfigurement?</p><p>His feet stopped at a door at the end of the hallway. The pencil practically burned his palm pointing toward the door. <em>She was there</em>. All that separated him from the one he loved was a three inch door. Unconsciously, he flicked the rune off with his stele. <em>She was so close</em>. With one hand smoothing out his hair, the other knocked on the door.</p><p>Was the knock too forceful? Too quick? What if she didn’t come to the door because she thought he was some weirdo? By the angel, was this how Simon felt all the time? Jace felt a new wave of pity rush through him that was quickly forgotten by the sound of a lock turning. Jace straightened. The door handle turned and slowly opened.</p><p>There was a sharp intake of breath, from who Jace didn’t care. When he last saw her, she had just turned 18. Now…now the 21-year-old woman standing before him could destroy him and he would apologize to her. Perhaps his senses were partially blinded due to the oversized Columbia sweatshirt she wore—just the sweatshirt—which barely grazed her mid-thigh, leaving a large canvas of silky porcelain skin exposed to his eyes. Her body had grown curvier and more angular, with noticeable muscle definition. <em>She had been training, protecting herself with him gone.</em> And she had bangs now, which made her eyes wider—not that they could be much wider at the moment, staring at him. Her cheekbones were sharper, more prominent, and her lips…well, thankfully those hadn’t changed. They remained the same lips he had grown so familiar with and accustomed to and…now he was staring.</p><p>But so was she. He knew that he had to stop staring at her, challenging as it was. He had to explain and he had questions to ask her and—</p><p>Her mouth had dropped and a gasp, so much like the one he made every time he kissed her, escaped. His eyes clouded, his senses went into overdrive, his pulse throbbed.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck it.</em>
</p><p>“I’m so sorry,” he breathed and then his lips were on hers and her body was crushed against his. It seemed she wouldn’t respond. A moment later, her lips moved against his—fast and passionate. His senses exploded. She was his aphrodisiac and he would happily overdose on her. His hands slipped from the small of her back to her creamy thighs, slipping her leg around his waist. Her fingers threaded themselves through his hair, pulling at his curls and eliciting a groan and—</p><p>“Clary, who was at the door?”</p><p>Her eyes burst open, bulging, and then suddenly she was forcefully pushing him away. Clary jolted backward, putting two then three feet between them until her back hit the wall. Carefully, she raised her fingers to her lips as if he had burned her with his kisses. Jace knew he should focus on the new voice—wait why was it male—but she drowned out everything else.</p><p>“Clary,” Jace murmured and then a fist was flying at him. Being three years out of practice, Jace’s reflexes kicked in too late. The punch landed and he tumbled back against the door. Jace flexed his jaw. Nothing was broken, but it would certainly leave a nasty bruise if Jace didn’t put an iratze on it. He raised his eyebrows. Whoever this man was, he was strong. He had to be a Shadowhunter. But why would he be in an apartment with Clary, early in the morning, alone, half-dressed, while she’d thought Jace was dead…</p><p>Jace flew upwards and tackled the man, sending them both crashing to the floor. Clary’s yelp and subsequent yelling fell upon death ears. All Jace heard was his fist pounding into the dumb, ugly face of the man. Repeatedly. A hit for every time he touched…</p><p>Red clouded Jace’s vision; red that only reminded Jace of Clary, which enraged him further. He deserved to die. Jace hit him harder, grinning as he drew blood.</p><p>“Stop it! Both of you!”</p><p>Jace paused briefly at Clary’s cries, giving the man an opening to flip Jace off of him and take the upper hand. Jace swerved his head to the right just as the man’s fist came down. He sent a knee upwards, which the man dodged. The man sent a well-aimed punch to his neck, making Jace grunt. Moments later Jace got in a solid elbow to the man’s chest, likely cracking two ribs.</p><p>“To hell with this!”</p><p>Just as Jace had regained dominance, a wave of icy water crashed over them both. His eyes burst wide, staring up at Clary. She looked down at the two with hands on her hips and a scowl forged from hellfire. Jace swallowed. He couldn’t remember his throat ever feeling so dry. Hadn’t he been coming here to apologize with his tail between his legs for all the misery he had caused her? He glanced down at the bloodied, bruised, and newly soaked man, not feeling particularly sorry for the damage he had caused.</p><p>“Clary, I—“</p><p>She shifted, crossing her arms, and the light hit just right, catching onto her hand. Since when did Clary wear rings? And so early in the morning. Jace squinted as the light illuminated the diamond on her finger. Clearly Clary still wasn’t the ring type because she was wearing it on the wrong finger. According to Isabelle, girls were only supposed to wear rings on the fourth finger of their left hand if—</p><p>The apartment door burst open. Alec, Isabelle, and Simon spilled into the apartment, apparently having realized where he disappeared to. Within two bounds, someone was at his side pulling him off the man and away. Jace didn’t try to fight. He couldn’t if he wanted to. For the first time, the fight had died within him.</p><p>“Goddamnit. You shouldn’t have come here, Jace,” Simon whispered at his side. Jace blinked. Where was…</p><p>Alec placed a gentle hand on Clary’s shoulder. Her breathing was quick and Jace couldn’t make out her words, which were frenzied and near hyperventilation. His chest tightened at the sight, but then she turned from Alec to whisper something to the man who was readily at her side. All Jace saw was Clary, the man, and the ring on her finger.</p><p>Isabelle hesitantly came to stand at Simon’s side.</p><p>“Jace.” Nothing. She opened her mouth to try again when she followed Jace’s line of sight. Her lips tightened.</p><p>“We tried to warn you,” she murmured in his ear. “Come with us. You—“</p><p>Her gaze locked with Clary’s. Alec quickly nudged her, bringing Clary’s focus back to him. Isabelle flexed her jaw, looking back to Jace with newly wet eyes.</p><p>“Both of you have too much to process right now and we can explain. But we need to go.”</p><p>Jace only had enough energy to nod. With one last glimpse of Clary with tears streaking down her cheeks and the man putting his arms around her, he let Simon and Isabelle lead him away.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>At this story's heart is a mystery, so naturally clues have already been slipped in and I'll be super interested in hearing your predictions. I have a few more chapters already pre-written, so the next update will depend on the amount of comments. Thank you for reading, reviewing, and everything else!<br/>-A.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"So I guess the rumors are true," Magnus strode into the Institute's infirmary, quirking an eyebrow at the sight of Jace. "Has anyone ever told you you're like a cockroach?"</p><p>Jace shrugged. He didn't feel much like talking. In the two hours since he returned to the Institute, he had been just fine isolating himself within the infirmary so he could think. Even if his thinking was really just sulking like an angsty teenager.</p><p><em>"</em><em>I don't want to be a man</em>," Jace had told Clary and Luke after Maryse kicked him out. <em>"I want to be an angst-ridden teenager who can't confront his own demons and takes it out verbally on other people instead."</em></p><p>And the way Clary had looked at him, even when they thought they were siblings, with those green eyes of molten fire and innocence.</p><p>
  <em>Nope. Shut it down. </em>
</p><p>No matter how hard he tried not to think about her, his mind kept going in circles. Truly, there had yet to be a moment he had stopped thinking about her. Those thoughts quickly lead to the apartment and then the ring, but thinking about the ring hurt too much, so he would spiral into the little details that he had missed when his body had been running on pure adrenaline.</p><p>Whose sweatshirt was Clary wearing? The man's? Had he been touching her as only Jace was supposed to before Jace arrived? Her curls had been askew, but that could have just as easily been from sleeping versus…</p><p>How long exactly did it take for Clary to forget about Jace and move on? It had been three years. Clary and Jace had been together for two. In that time, they had overcome thinking they were siblings, two wars, Jace being possessed and controlled by Clary's brother who attempted to assault her, and Jace being a human flamethrower. Through all that, they had never broached the subject of marriage. So what exactly had some guy with a mediocre Ivy League sweatshirt—which was probably made by child laborers in a third-world country—been through with Clary that had simultaneously gotten her through Jace's death and convinced her to marry him? And for that matter, what—</p><p>There was a sharp <em>zap</em> to Jace's chest, shocking him upright and to attention. Magnus smirked, dripping in satisfaction as he blew a puff of smoke from his finger. Jace narrowed his eyes.</p><p>"Was that really necessary?" He ground out.</p><p>Magnus shrugged.</p><p>"I don't appreciate my valuable time being wasted by your brooding. I'd much rather get to the bottom of your mysterious resurrection."</p><p>"I wouldn't exactly call it a resurrection. I'm pretty sure that I was never actually dead but just…missing."</p><p>Magnus's cat-like eyes flashed with excitement. He stroked his chin thoughtfully.</p><p>"Luckily, we can at least get to the bottom of that mystery." He paused for only a moment, appraising Jace. "That is, assuming I have your permission to examine you."</p><p>The question was clearly less for permission and more out of rudimentary politeness, likely having something to do with Alec slipping into the infirmary moments before.</p><p>"Are you saying I have a choice?"</p><p>Magnus's hand lit up in a flash of blue sparks. His face lit up in a grin madder than the cheshire cat.</p><p>Jace remembered how the heavenly fire had felt: like electricty thrumming through his veins, always waiting for the gasoline to spark. That was what it felt like when Magnus put his hand upon his head. His entire body raced with energy, a painful chaotic force of adrenaline which made sitting still agonizing. But he couldn't move if he wanted to. Flashes danced across his eyelids.</p><p>He was at the doorstep of Clary's brownstone. She smiled up at him in the darkness, completely unaware to her own beauty.</p><p>"I still can't believe you've never seen a single Disney movie," she teased. He could never figure out her and Simon's fascination with cartoons meant for children.</p><p>"There's a duck not wearing pants. That's all I need to know." Her features scrunched into a playful scowl and he knew he had won. He swooped down, kissing her on her forehead. She pouted.</p><p>"That's all I get?"</p><p>"Considering your mother is watching us out her window, I figured you would like me better tomorrow if I remained unmauled."</p><p>Clary twisted, spotting Jocelyn peeking out from behind the curtains. Luke could be seen gently trying to pull her back. Clary rolled her eyes and groaned.</p><p>"I just turned 18, yet she still treats me like a child; as if I'm not trained to fight demons." She slipped her hands around his neck, tugging him closer. Who was he to refuse?</p><p>"You know, there's always one solution to your mother's nightly stake outs. You could move in with me."</p><p>Clary jumped back, though her arms remained around him. She blinked up at him slowly with wide eyes, gauging whether or not he was serious.</p><p>"You aren't joking." It wasn't a question, but Jace shook his head regardless.</p><p>"You practically live at the Institute anyway. Why not make it official?"</p><p>Clary's smile grew wider.</p><p>"You sure you won't get sick of me?"</p><p>"Impossible."</p><p>She pulled him closer, crashing his lips to hers, her mother be damned. Then he had bid her goodnight and promised to see her in the morning, grinning as he thought of the coming days where he would no longer have to say goodbye. He continued walking with a stupid grin on his face for a few more blocks until the sensor in his pocket began to vibrate. Jace's lovestruck grin twisted into one of bloodlust.</p><p>The demon was built like a tree trunk, thick limbs knocking clumsily against the alley walls. The body glistened and pulsed a dark black, like it oozed oil. It was an easy kill, easier than even Jace was expecting. A full minute of action at the most, leaving Jace with a lot of unspent adenaline buzzing in him. He picked up his seraph blade, considering calling Alec for a spur of the moment hunt, when the hairs on the back of his neck pricked. There was movement behind him.</p><p>"I expected you would be more difficult, Jace Herondale," a women's voice crooned. Where had he heard that voice? "No matter. Thank you for all your help."</p><p>"I haven't done anything to help you."</p><p>Jace spun, his blade poised and aimed for the woman's throat.</p><p>It was all darkness from there.</p><p>"No, but you will," her voice floated in his ears.</p><p>There was a feminine hand brushing his cheek. <em>Darkness</em>. Vines twisting and coiling across his limbs. <em>Darkness</em>. The flash of a knife. <em>Darkness</em>. A rune he had never seen before, made from blood. <em>Darkness</em>. Grass in his hands and brimstone at his feet. <em>Darkness, forever and always. </em></p><p>Jace burst upwards from the cot, gulping thick breaths of air and recoiling from the fluroescent lights above that so harshly contrasted against the darkness.</p><p>Magnus stood in front of him, his hand no longer glowing with sparks. He looked at Jace curiously, his lips pursed in a grim line.</p><p>"Magnus, what's wrong? Did you find out what happened to him?" Alec stepped forward, slipping his hand into Magnus's. <em>My energy is yours if you need it. Take it</em>, his eyes whispered to the warlock. Jace's heart clenched enviously, though he wished it hadn't. His parabatai had fought for his love against so many obstacles. He deserved this happiness, even while Jace's was in jeapardy.</p><p>"I sensed traces of magic on your body. I couldn't recognize the source, but whoever took you is capable of powerful, and dark, magic," Magnus directed at Jace. "They knew how to do a similar mind-blocking spell that I did on the biscuit, which suggests that wherever you were, you were conscious."</p><p>"But we know it was a warlock who took him, right?" Alec interjected, his tone venemous. "We can track him down like we tracked you down."</p><p>"Her," Jace added pointedly. Alec and Magnus looked at him curiously. "I couldn't see her face, but I remembered it was a woman who took me."</p><p>Alec looked at Magnus beseechingly. "That narrows it down. If we look through the female warlocks in your registry—"</p><p>"Just because she was capable of blocking his memory doesn't necessarily mean she was a warlock, just that she's powerful." Magnus put a tender hand to Alec's face, calming him down. There was a weary familiarity to the gesture that gave Jace the impression this had become a regular thing since Jace had been gone. It was only when Magnus lowered his hand that Jace noticed the identical rings on their fingers.</p><p>"You got married," Jace murmured. <em>And I wasn't there for it</em>. Alec nodded, albeit uneasily. He knew what Jace was thinking, of course. He had always known. <em>Parabatai</em>.</p><p>"Congratulations," Jace said, stuttering slightly. "I'm happy for you."</p><p>And he was. He only wished he could have been happy for them when it mattered, at the wedding, instead of having a separate life that he couldn't remember. So much had been stolen from him. Isabelle was pregnant, Alec was married, and Clary was…</p><p>"Jace," Magnus uneasily changed the subject. "Have you noticed any new marks or wounds on yourself in the mirror? They could give us a clue as to where you were."</p><p>Jace shifted on the cot and shook his head. "I've been a bit sidetracked"</p><p>"He tracked down Clary and found out about Eric," Alec supplied.</p><p><em>Eric</em>. What a dumb name.</p><p>Magnus winced and looked as if he wanted to say something supportive, but he didn't get a chance. There was muffled yelling from outside the infirmary and then Clary burst through the door, screaming, "Who the hell do you think you are making me believe you are dead, turning up on my door after three years, kissing me, and then bailing without giving me so much as an explanation?"</p><hr/><p>Clary only had eyes for him as she tore through the infirmary, quickly brushing past Alec and Magnus and stopping five feet in front of Jace. It was a healthy distance, but it left a tangible weight. Jace wasn't ready to see her—not yet—but his gaze was locked on her with a magnetic charge. In his mind, it had only been a day since he last kissed her goodnight, but his body recognized what it had lost and refused to let him forget it. Even as her eyes were narrowed in fury and a glistening bright green that spoke of the pain he had caused her; and continued causing her.</p><p>"You're not welcome here!"</p><p>Jace spun to the source of the intrusion; Simon had torn himself from Isabelle's grip and was barreling towards them with a level of irateness Jace couldn't remember ever seeing from the nerdy boy. Jace furrowed his brow. He knew that his <em>unprecedented</em> return to the living had freaked Simon out earlier, but he couldn't think of anything that he had done to deserve Simon's abuse. At least, not recently.</p><p>"I get that we haven't always gotten along, but if this can wait—"</p><p>"I wasn't talking to you," Simon spat, not sparing a glance at Jace. His eyes were locked on a different target. But who…"I meant <em>her</em>."</p><p>Her? But there was only Isabelle and…</p><p>Clary scoffed, rolling her eyes and returning Simon's glare with equal, if not more deadly, ferocity.</p><p>"Well that didn't stop you from bursting into my apartment so, by all means, sit there and pout to your heart's content, <em>bastardis sanguinis</em>." The insult rolled off her tongue, instantly earning a reaction from Simon who lunged at her, stopped only by Magnus and Alec's fast reflexes. Jace wasn't sure what it meant, but the hatred in her voice toward her best friend sent a chill down her spine.</p><p>What the <em>hell</em> had happened?</p><p>Simon tensed, opening his lips to respond, when Isabelle moved to put a hand on his arm. The gesture instantly calmed him, allowing Alec and Magnus to release him without fear of homicide, though his eyes still burned with hatred toward Clary. In fact, Isabelle's gaze had hardened at the redhead's presence, though she didn't appear to be outright hostile. Clary, on the other hand…</p><p>Now that Jace was paying attention, he noticed a clear divide in the room. Clary stood on her own off to one side with the rest of their friends standing at the opposition, though Alec appeared visibly uncomfortable rather than angry and Magnus was grim but unsurprised. And then, in the middle of it all was Jace.</p><p>As if he wasn't dealing with enough as it was.</p><p>"Maybe we should give the two of them some privacy," Isabelle said stiffly, her gaze firmly on Jace.</p><p>"I think that's a great idea!" With a grand flourish, Magnus strode to usher Alec and Simon toward the doorway. Simon complied, as if he had a choice in the matter, but not before exchanging one final look at Jace. 'I'm sorry', he mouthed.</p><p>Before Jace could figure out what that meant, the room was cleared and it was just him, Clary, and the distance between them. Clary shifted, her eyes lingering at the doorway before slowly pivoting to him.</p><p>Jace leaned backward, flattening his hands firmly on the cot. He didn't trust being near her while his mind was so chaotic. Nothing was right anymore and he had so many questions he wanted to ask her. He lingered on Simon's parting message. What did Simon have to be sorry for? And why did it feel like a warning?</p><p>He wanted to ask her what happened between Simon and her and opened his mouth to form the question, but faltered. There was so much he wanted to ask her. Why would he start with <em>Simon</em>? But then again, it wasn't just Simon, it was everyone. The only one who didn't seem to be shunning her was Alec, of all people. So maybe it wasn't such a stupid question. Jace opened his mouth again, but then he thought about how <em>she </em>was feeling. Undoubtedly these last few hours had been a lot for her to handle. Was she okay? He wanted to know, so he should ask, but maybe that would seem like he was trying too hard.</p><p>Why was this so hard? This wasn't who he was. Did he even know who he was? He had been conscious during those three years, not that he could remember it. What had he done during that time? Against his will, an image of a hand brushing his cheek burst into the forefront of his mind. A pit settled in his stomach.</p><p>He looked up at Clary.</p><p>"What ha—How—When—" He cut himself off, shaking his head slightly. Clary stood silent and unmoving, taking him in. That was the most disconcerting part of seeing her. From the moment he met her, her emotions were clear for all to see through her green eyes. He knew when she was angry, hurt, prepping for battle, and deeply in love. Now when he looked in her eyes, he couldn't read anything; she was a blank slate and that was what he couldn't figure out above all else.</p><p>"I'm sorry," he choked out, interrupting their silent staring match. "The last time I saw you, we were on a picnic in Central Park. You wore a yellow romper with daisies on it. I can remember every detail of how you looked and the way you laughed and how it felt kissing you with the sunlight shining down.</p><p>"You kept getting mad at me for teasing you each time you reapplied sunscreen, but you were still smiling. I can remember every detail because that's the last thing I remember. And I don't remember what happened after, but you thought I was dead and for that I can't apologize enough."</p><p>Jace knew he was rambling, but the further he talked, the clearer the image of that day and that romper became. It shimmered in his eyes; his heart clenched as he fully took her in now.</p><p>Thankfully, she had changed out of her boyfriend's shirt and was now outfitted in full armor. It differed slightly from normal shadowhunter gear in that little touches of red on the belts and straps were added. He had grown used to seeing her in armor thoughout the many battles they fought together, but something about this armor felt significant. And then there was that ring, still on her finger.</p><p>"Do you know who took you?" Jace snapped his head up at the sound of her voice; the first time she had actually talked to him since his return. He shook his head.</p><p>She nodded, pursing her lips in concentration as her mind whirred. Her eyes snapped back into focus and then she was turning and rushing to the door.</p><p>"Well then, we better start looking so I can know who to kill," she called behind her. Jace blinked and then he was off the cot and chasing after her. She was short, but damn was she fast when charging off. He reached her when she had almost reached the door and quickly caught her arm.</p><p>"Clary, slow down."</p><p>She huffed, blowing a piece of stray hair from her face. His hand twitched and before he realized what he had done he was brushing the tendril behind her ear and slipping a finger underneath the ponytail restraining her hair. They both froze. Slowly, Jace drew his hand back. The ponytail remained in place.</p><p>"We should probably talk about us." He had thought it over and accepted that she was with someone else while she thought he was dead, but he wasn't dead anymore.</p><p>"Jace." Her tone made her reply clear. <em>Not now</em>. He clenched his jaw.</p><p>"We need to talk about this sometime. This hasn't been easy for me either, you know."</p><p>"<em>Jace</em>!" Her eyes flashed warningly. He bristled like a chastised child, slightly shaking his head.</p><p>"Fine. Why don't you tell me what happened between you and Simon, then."</p><p>She hesitated. Then, "A lot has changed since you've been gone."</p><p>Clary squared her shoulders and looked up at him. For the first time, she allowed him a glimpse into her emotions as her eyes glittered with tears.</p><p>"I'm not the girl in the daisy romper anymore, Jace." She pulled her arm from his loosened grip and took a step back, away from him. "She died with you."</p><p>With one last sorrowful look at him, she disappeared through the door and left him alone in an empty room with more questions than answers.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Malec is married, Clary is engaged (not married...yet), Clary and Simon despise each other, and Jace remembered a mysterious woman who took him. Next chapter will have some answers and potentially some of Clary's POV. Let me know your theories so far in the comments and I'll see you soon!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Clary leaves after a tense encounter. As the group travels to a Clave meeting where Jace is set to be examined, he learns some painful information. Clary makes a difficult decision for her future.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rush of seeing Jace, feeling him, brought her charging into the place she swore to never return among those she once belonged. It was impulsive—a recklessness that she hadn’t allowed inyears. But she had to see him.</p><p>
  <em>Clary stood in the doorway of the Institute, arms clutched tight around herself, watching silently as Alec and Isabelle lumbered up and down the stairs carrying a growing number of moving boxes.</em>
</p><p>“Well you’ve always known how to make an entrance,” Magnus clucked. Clary stopped her rush to leave, finding the others standing in between her and the exit. Magnus looked her up and down.</p><p>“Interesting outfit. Full gear; one would think you were preparing for battle.”</p><p>Clary smirked humorlessly.</p><p>“I’m seeing the four of you. Best to be prepared.”</p><p>Simon moved forward, not getting far before Isabelle gripped him tightly. Clary sighed, disappointed. She’d learnt some new moves since they last fought she was itching to try out.</p><p>
  <em>Though her training made her forget, Clary was reminded of how small she was while her almost home emptied.</em>
</p><p>“Don’t worry, I’m leaving,” she spoke, brushing past them to the door. A hand grasped at her shoulder, gently stopping her. Her gaze met Alec’s, soft and so unlike the others.</p><p>“You should stay. With everything that’s happened, we need to help each other.” His blue eyes were electric with intensity. “Jace needs you.”</p><p>Clary hesitated, her shoulders dropping. Then, a whispered, “Are you crazy?” and the spell was broken and Clary was out the door.</p><p>
  <em>Alone in an empty Institute, Clary found herself opening a familiar door and curling into a ball on his bed without knowing how she got there.</em>
</p><p>Clary was halfway down the stairs when the door opened again. Clary turned to tell Alec to let her go, but it wasn’t him. Out of everyone, why did it have to be her?</p><p>Isabelle and Clary stood, staring but not saying a word, even as the minutes ticked on. Clary’s gaze eventually strayed to Isabelle’s protruding stomach. Despite everything, she felt a pang hit her.Isabelle straightened as she realized where Clary was looking.</p><p>“No matter what you think of me, you know that I will do anything to protect my family,” Isabelle began firmly, leaving no room for argument. Not that Clary would.</p><p>
  <em>Isabelle descended the stairs with Simon in tow behind her, each carrying the last of the boxes they would need to leave. As she spotted Clary, Isabelle dropped her box and wrapped the redhead in a hug. Over Isabelle’s shoulder, Clary and Simon’s eyes met. Her parabatai mark burned against her shoulder. Finally, he looked away.</em>
</p><p>Clary nodded stiffly and said, “More than most.”</p><p>Isabelle paused, biting her lip before continuing, “Then you know that when I tell you to stay away from Jace, it’s because I want to protect my brother.”</p><p>“Or yourself.”</p><p>Isabelle’s dark eyes narrowed icily.</p><p>“Both of us have secrets we’d rather keep from him,” she spoke with barely restrained venom, stepping closer. “Go see Eric. By not letting go, you’re just hurting both of you.”</p><p>“Spoken from the expert.” Clary closed the distance between them and glanced down. “For their sake, I hope you aren’t having a girl.”</p><p>Clary left without giving her a chance to respond, though she heard a slew of filthy words being thrown at her until Isabelle’s voice was but a distant memory, as Clary preferred her to be.</p><p><em>“No matter what has happened, we’re here for you, Clary,” Isabelle</em> <em>said firmly, gripping onto Clary’s shoulders. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re family.” </em></p><hr/><p>Since when had Jace developed stubble? He stared at his reflection in the mirror for the first time since his life had been ripped from him. Gingerly, his finger rubbed his jawline where rough prickles took the place of the smooth skin he had the last time he looked in a mirror. His finger fell, as if sparked with electricity.</p><p>
  <em>At least his face wasn’t grotesquely maimed.</em>
</p><p>Still, his appearance was the least of his concerns. For once, he examined his body not with arrogance, but inspection. At the moment, Jace’s best clue in figuring out what happened to him was himself. Aside from the stubble, his face was more chiseled; he went from boy to adult without even being there to see it. He ran a hand through his hair and froze, because his lion’s mane was cut short. Where he normally let his curls grow out to just below his ears before giving in to Maryse’s nagging to cut his hair, it had been sheared close.</p><p>There it was again, that stomach churning sense of violation. Whoever took him had clearly groomed him, likely multiple times across three years. Which might suggest that wherever he was, he was being taken care of. Could that be worse? Being tortured while those he loved were left to mourn him was one thing, but being cared for while his loved ones suffered? It was like being a participant.</p><p>He gripped the marble counter desperately. A haircut didn’t mean he was there willingly. Once he knew everything that had happened, he could get revenge on whoever took him and get his life back. Unless Clary beat him to it.</p><p>Damn. He had been doing such a good job fending her out of his thoughts. Timer restarting: now.</p><p>After he got revenge—him and no one else—and retook his life, he could work on trying to make up for the time he missed. There was the complication of his loved ones feuding, but what’s one more thing on the to-do list?</p><p>But first, Jace had to take off his shirt.</p><p>
  <em>I bet Clary will be disappointed she left before this.</em>
</p><p>Shit. Timer restarting (for real): now.</p><p>Jace tossed his shirt onto the counter and focused on his torso reflected in the mirror. New scars that Jace couldn’t remember dotted his body. Nothing too grotesque or indicative of torture, but there where skin was smooth. Jace spun and craned his neck backward to see the reflection. Another scar on his lower back, a thin one on his shoulder blade, and further defined muscle. Magnus had already hypothesized that Jace was awake wherever he was, but the scars and added muscle were further proof.</p><p>Three years taken from him and he was stuck without answers, control, or his girlfriend. He balled his fist and stared at his reflection. Three years older, helpless to change what had been done, with the stubble on his jaw to show it.</p><p>There was a knock and Alec pushed the door open, pulling Jace back to the present. His mouth was set firmly.</p><p>“I tried,” was all he said, but Jace understood. His timer to not think about Clary never stood a chance, really. Alec eyed Jace and his deadening grip on the counter. “If you’re thinking of punching the mirror, don’t. Mom’s here.”</p><p>A jolt of excitement raced through him, but Jace paused.</p><p>“And?”</p><p>Alec sighed and said, “And the Clave is requesting an audience with all available Shadowhunters to determine how you’re alive.”</p><p>Dead or not, Jace could really use a nap.</p><hr/><p>The five had just descended the tunnels into the silent city’s underground network when there was a flash of movement and a force collided with Jace. His hand fell to his weapons belt instinctually, but the heaving sobs against his chest stopped him. Maryse clung to him in a tight hug, which he instantly returned. She held him as a mother held her son who they thought would never return.</p><p>Jace swallowed roughly. He was her son and she was his mother and she was desperately thrilled he was alive, her sparkling eyes told him. They drank him in, examining his older appearance. Gingerly, she grazed his stubbled jaw before recoiling quickly with a shake of her head. There was a time where he wouldn’t have believed he would be on the receiving end of so much love.</p><p>“I didn’t know whether or not to believe it when I heard,” her voice shook. “How are you here? We thought…”</p><p>Jace nodded roughly, slowly taking a step back from the hug. Her grip remained tight on his shoulders.</p><p>“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Alec supplied from behind him, witchlight in hand. “Magnus examined him and he believes Jace was never dead, but being held by someone.”</p><p>Maryse straightened, composing herself into the stern and commanding force he knew best. “Well, we’ll need to get an opinion from the Silent Brothers, especially given what happened the last time you were ressurrected.”</p><p>Her eyes searched their group with sharp intensity. </p><p>“Where’s Clary?”</p><p>The others shifted uncomfortably, some exchanging glances. Alec stepped forward dutifully and said, “This has been a lot for everyone to process. Clary felt that her being here, with everyone, would be too much of a distraction.”</p><p>Simon snorted.</p><p>If Maryse noticed, she didn’t let on. Her attention instead focused on analyzing Jace with narrowed eyes.</p><p>“I know that you don’t remember what happened to you, but do you think that there might be a chance Clary brought you back?”</p><p>Jace shook his head, though his chest felt suddenly warm. He remembered that day on the beach where there had been darkness, then her voice: <em>Jace</em>. Anything in the world, yet she chose him when all they had shared were forbidden kisses and tortured glances; a love that had not yet known what love was, as it grew each day. Could she have done it again?</p><p>But then he remembered the way her eyes had widened not in joy, but shock when he arrived at her apartment. And if she knew he was alive, had brought him back herself, why would she tear through the infirmary in a rage at being left out of his reappearance?</p><p>“Clary didn’t know.She looked at me as if I were a ghost.”</p><p>To her, he may as well have been. But he was back now. He wasn’t going away anytime soon.</p><p>“The Clave will want her to testify by the Mortal Sword just to be sure. It’s not like she was transparent about bringing you back the first time,” Maryse said.</p><p>Isabelle sprung forward, though Simon tried calming her with his eyes on her stomach. She brushed him off. “She’s engaged, Mom. It’s best that we just…leave her out of this.”</p><p>There it was. <em>Engaged</em>. Jace knew what it meant when he saw the ring, but he hadn’t heard the word said out loud yet. Acid, that’s what it felt like. His bones were made of acid, his lungs were made of acid, his entire body was made of acid except for the heart beating in his chest, burning and dying within the body housing it.</p><p>“The Clave disagrees,” Maryse pointedly looked away from Jace, but her hand gripped his shoulder more tightly. “And they are waiting on us. We should go.”</p><p>Taking the witchlight from Alec, Maryse lead the group through the cavernous undergound tunnels. Jace purposely hung back a few feet, positioning himself alongside the others. Keeping his voice low, Jace asked, “Since when does the Clave host meetings in the Silent City?”</p><p>“They’ve been changing locations of every meeting for the past six months or so,” Isabelle replied grimly. “You coming back is just another weird event in a stream of weird. Fae have been popping up dead with no idea of the cause, Lake Lynn turned to blood, demons disappearing…everyone’s paranoid.”</p><p>“They called us back to head the New York Institute because of everything going on,” Alec began before Simon added, “Plus everyone else was afraid, given the curse.”</p><p>Alec glared at Simon, looking ready to correct him, but Jace’s head was spinning. The boxes stacked in the Institute’s hallways began to make sense. </p><p>“Why weren’t you at the Institute?”</p><p>Isabelle frowned, appearing years older. “After you—after we thought you died, it was too hard. Magnus and Alec traveled, then a few weeks later mom transferred to Chicago. Simon and I went with her.”</p><p>Years of training allowed Jace to keep walking, letting his body run on autopilot as his mind was far away. He looked at Simon hard and unflinching.</p><p>“You left her alone?”</p><p>Magnus rubbed his temple.</p><p>“Herondales,” he clucked. “Always the one track minds.”</p><p>Jace flipped him off without glancing away, eyes locked on the best friend, the <em>parabatai</em> he would have expected to protect her if Jace couldn’t. Simon puffed up his chest—larger than before, but still scrawny—and scowled.</p><p>“It wasn’t like that. You dying, so soon after Max…Isabelle needed me too. We didn’t—<em>I </em>didn’t leave her alone,” his voice shook. Though Simon claimed to hate Clary, it was clear some part of him still cared. “She had her mom and Luke. And we talked almost every day until the Clave transferred her to Barcelona.”</p><p>Like a switch, the sorrow filling Simon’s face flickered back to anger.</p><p>Tears watered in Isabelle’s eyes staring up at Jace, whether from pregnancy hormones or the sheer charge of emotions from his return catching up to her. “We all visited. She was at Magnus and Alec’s wedding. <em>She</em> stopped talking to <em>us</em>.”</p><p>Simon put his arms around Isabelle and she sank into him while Alec pointedly looked forward.</p><p>Whether or not Maryse could hear them, she gave no indication. But when they turned the next corner and promptly announced “I’ll let them know you’re here” she wasted no time disappearing through the doors. They waited in uncomfortable silence, what seemed to be a growing pattern until Maryse returned a few minutes later, expression grim.</p><p>“They’re ready for you.”</p><hr/><p>Clary remembered that day in the sun, wearing the yellow romper. The cool breeze kissing them while they kissed each other, lying tangled in the grass. Laughing, talking, and smiling until her cheeks hurt. Full of vibrant yellows and greens she itched to paint that all laid waste to red. Red was all she saw now.</p><p>Like a ghost, Clary drifted from the lobby to the elevator and numbly pressed the button for her penthouse. Only when the doors closed and she was alone did she let herself fall apart. Her happy images always started out like that—happy—before she was revisited by the ghosts of what came next. Demons, the mansion full of empty rooms and empty faces, bathed in blood. Always, <em>he </em>would follow; why should today be any different?</p><p>“Well that was exciting,” Sebastian crooned, leaning against the elevator wall opposite her. She didn’t blink, having grown used to his intrusions.</p><p>“I don’t want to hear it,” she wiped away her tears. “Not today.”</p><p>“Did you think golden boy’s return would make me disappear?”</p><p><em>Hoped</em>, more like.</p><p>The elevator doors opened. Clary quickly composed herself and ignored Sebastian following behind into her apartment and then bedroom. Eric stood up quickly at her intrusion, taking her in. Even though she had tried to hide her tears, he saw her red ringed eyes and puffy cheeks immediately. He frowned, taking a step closer, then back.</p><p>“So it’s him then? Jace?”</p><p>Clary nodded. From the moment she saw him, touched him, felt his heartbeat, she knew. She would recognize his beating heart anywhere; within the <em>thump thump thumping</em> of his heart, she could have sworn they spelled out her name. And then Jace saw Eric and the beats screamed.</p><p>No longer able to keep still, Eric crossed the room and gently kissed her, though she didn’t return it.</p><p>“Has anything changed for you?” His blue eyes probed her.</p><p>She didn’t respond at first. Then, quietly, “Jace is alive, but someone took him. I’m going to find out who. They need to pay.”</p><p>Albeit hesitantly, Clary took his tanned hands into her own.</p><p>“Nothing has changed.”</p><p>Eric smiled and this time, Clary returned his kiss. It was different than Jace’s kiss, which was pure sunlight, reminding her of that damn romper and that damned day. Eric’s kiss was a promise of what was to come. The sunlight was gone, but it had been gone for three years.</p><p>“I have to go—“</p><p>“Thank Lilith,” Sebastian drawled, now lounging on the bed.</p><p>“—But when I come back, we can work on finalizing plans?”</p><p>Clary nodded, briefly kissed him goodbye, and waited for the apartment door to shut behind him. Sebastian jumped up and stretched.</p><p>“About time. I hate being ignored during talks of bloodshed.”</p><p>“Good. Leave.”</p><p>With trancelike focus, Clary moved to the walk-in closet. Gear lined the shelves, as well as nicer outfits from designers Clary couldn’t pronounce the names of. Valentino, Louis Vuitton, Versace, she couldn’t be bothered and swept it aside. In the back of the closet were her old belongings: jeans, t-shirts, paint-stained overalls, and the yellow romper. It hung untouched and unwashed from that day, but she could never convince herself to get rid of it.</p><p>Numbly, Clary sat amongst her old belongings, absently running the romper through her fingers. She paused at the familiar gashes in the fabric’s midsection, four parallel lines surrounded by large blood stains oozing outward. Tattered romper in hand, she burst upward and into the living room.</p><p>Alive or not, there was still a murder that day. Even if she couldn’t be with Jace, she could do something.</p><p>The flames from the fireplace were reflected in her eyes as she painstakingly threw the daisy romper into the flames and watched it burn. Even as Sebastian rematerialized beside her, she didn’t look away from the bloodied fabric consumed by fire and turning to ash.</p><p>“No matter how many tears you’ve shed, little sister, let the blood flow further,” he whispered into her ear. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter was a "how much info can I drop without giving too much away" landmine, which is why I had to rewrite it like four times. But I'm really interested in hearing your ideas about what's going on with Clary at this point. </p><p>As always, thank you for reading and commenting.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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